


The Shaking Shape of You

by not_poignant



Series: Fae Tales - AUs, Oneshots and More [3]
Category: Fae Tales - not_poignant, Original Work
Genre: Augus Each Uisge/Ash Glashtyn/Gwyn ap Nudd (offscreen), Fingering, Gentle Limit Play, Incest, Love, M/M, Outdoor Sex, Public Sex, Rimming, Tenderness, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2021-01-30 22:26:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21435694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/not_poignant/pseuds/not_poignant
Summary: Augus liked the safety of pretending that these lines between them would never be crossed, but from the look in Ash’s eyes, he was already crossing them in his mind, over and over again. (PostThe Wildness Within)
Relationships: Augus Each Uisge/Ash Glashtyn
Series: Fae Tales - AUs, Oneshots and More [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/70676
Comments: 19
Kudos: 104





	The Shaking Shape of You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [choro3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/choro3/gifts).

> So, I'd always liked the dynamic set up between Ash and Augus in TWW, it was far gentler and consent-oriented than _Strange Sights_, which meant it never got very far in the story. Choro (bless you omg) idly brought up on Twitter, the Ash/Augus scene in the bathroom and I thought, you know what, it'd be cool to see what these two brothers are getting up to these days.
> 
> It turns out they're getting up to softcore porn, and no one is surprised.

Aside from kissing occasionally, or affectionate touching, Augus knew that Ash was doing his best to be respectful of Augus’ personal space when it was just the two of them. Almost like he was waiting for Augus to reach out to him.

When it was the three of them together, it was different. Ash took things further, pushed a little harder, falling back on the knowledge that Augus could secure his heartsong by giving orders to Gwyn, or by directing Ash to touch them both. Even there, Augus sometimes felt unstable, like he was on a strange precipice staring down at the other side of his heartsong, where there was only blackness and fear.

They navigated it carefully.

But Ash wanted to push, and Augus knew it. They both liked control, and as time stretched on, their lives becoming more comfortable all the time, Ash sometimes watched him with a dark, predatory hunger. A need to claim that Augus knew he’d directed towards countless others. But Augus didn’t feel the need to claim Ash, and it put him in the strange position of being the one expected to yield.

As Gwyn became more competent with magic, he left them for longer periods of time. Sometimes on excursions with the Raven Prince – where he often came back exhausted, dishevelled and drained – and sometimes on his own. He’d learned how to teleport with his light, and he used it egregiously often, sometimes just teleporting from one side of the house to the other. But with that ability, he’d begun to travel, the skills he’d learned in the woods – escaping his torturous, tormenting cousin – applied well to other areas of his life, and his Court status protecting him further.

Augus had fretted at first, feeling no impulse to leave his home as often as Gwyn did. But Gwyn returned, and he always seemed so pleased to be back with them, so comfortable in their presence, that it was becoming easier to let him go.

This time when Gwyn left, Ash came to stay, and they sometimes kissed before going to their separate beds, or in the morning after breakfast. After that, Augus withdrew, caught the sparking need in Ash’s eyes and wondered what more waited between them as brothers. Augus liked the safety of pretending that these lines between them would never be crossed, but from the look in Ash’s eyes, he was already crossing them in his mind, over and over again.

A sunny, late spring morning, and Augus left his home after breakfast. He swam up through the lake, liking the way it felt to swim without changing his buoyancy or what the water was doing. The water listened to him anyway, it curved to his thoughts and his will, and it let him move through it in a way that was almost soothing.

Above ground, he surveyed his territory, then walked quietly around the lake to the promontory of rocks that were radiating heat into the water, into the world, pale and sun-warmed and covered on the underside in vines. Gwyn did magic in the shadows of the rocks sometimes, but Augus liked to climb them.

There was a particular boulder he liked the most. Flat on the top, with a gentle downward curve, eroded by some glacier or river from so long ago maybe only the first Each Uisge remembered it. It wasn’t the highest boulder, and was still shaded by a giant weeping willow that grew too tall and too large, loved so often by Augus that it had become a dream that other weeping willows could only aspire to.

It provided part-shade, keeping the daunting space of the blue sky with its fluffy cumulus fragmented and broken up amongst the slender branches, the green leaves. Augus lowered himself down, soaking in the heat. After a while, he took off his shirt and let it fall, laying with his chest to the smooth stone, his damp hair curled upon it, his palms pressed flat until the heat made him sun-drunk and lazy, dreaming of fat, ripe buttercups and another summer between all three of them, Ash and Gwyn and Augus, turning their lives into something robust, instead of the fragile thing it had been at the beginning.

Lazy breezes sometimes coasted over his skin, but the heat soothed him, and even though it was morning, he began to doze.

His awareness stretched out broad across the lake that was his home and territory, and he sensed when Ash left Augus’ home, when he swam up through the lake. He knew that Ash was following Augus’ footsteps and looking for him. By the time Ash appeared, wet footsteps on the stone, the sound of a happy groan as he stretched, Augus was half-asleep again.

Ash sat down beside him, cross-legged, and Augus shivered pleasantly when a cool hand rested on his back.

‘Mm, you’re as warm as the stone, brother,’ Ash said, his voice low.

Augus’ breaths were easy, slow and even, and he felt a low stirring in his gut. He had a choice to dam it away, to keep it at bay, but he allowed it. Ash’s hand on his back, between his shoulder blades, was broad and familiar.

Ash didn’t ask when he began sweeping his hand down Augus’ back, from the nape of his neck to the hem of his pants, before starting again. Augus arched into the touch, a small movement, and then his arms stretched out in front of him. This was slow and delicious and didn’t feel threatening, even though Augus lay on his stomach and could feel Ash’s glamour in the air. It wasn’t the usual reassuring warmth, but something heavier, syrupy, and Augus knew it was only a beginning.

Ash wanted more. Augus took a shakier breath and Ash hushed him, continued to stroke his skin.

‘I love the freckles on your shoulders,’ Ash said. ‘I always have. You always get more in summer.’

‘I do,’ Augus said.

Ash made traceries between them, drawing lines, connecting them, making Augus shiver.

‘Should I ask?’ Ash said, a dark amusement in his voice. His fingers curled up against Augus’ neck, threatening, before brushing the sensitive skin at the edge of his armpit, and Augus wondered what he’d be asking for, and wondered how his heartsong would bear it. Yielding did not come easily to him. Easier now, these days, but still not easily.

‘Or should I act,’ Ash said, ‘and ask forgiveness later?’

‘It depends on what you want to do.’

‘Worship you,’ Ash said. ‘That’s all I ever want to do, when you look like this.’

Augus swallowed. He shifted, arm bending so that he could rest his chin on his forearm. After a while, still sleepy, he lay his cheek down on his own warm skin.

_Worship you. _The words appeased him.

But Ash’s fingers dragged down, nails scratching him lightly, and then his hand rested over the curve of one of Augus’ ass cheeks. It was claiming, possessive, and Augus began to shift upwards, uncomfortable.

Ash’s other hand came and rested between Augus’ shoulder blades, pushing lightly.

‘I’m not hurting you,’ Ash said. ‘You can tell me to stop.’

He was talking in that way he did sometimes, when he stripped all the fun-loving intensity from his voice and it was just an earthier him, the way he was when he was younger, before he’d picked up all the extras from the human realm he was so fond of. But his hand still curved around Augus’ ass, staying there, a promise.

It was easy to check in with his own heartsong, and he could feel it, secure and strong, but also lit up inside of him, a warning. It was unfair that something so simple could make him feel so unstable. But something about Ash undermined his sense of control. It had always been too easy to do what Ash said, what he wanted, to give into him. Ash knew it, and Ash was a waterhorse too, he would like it sometimes.

He would like it now.

‘I’m going to take your pants off,’ Ash said, shifting, moving over him. ‘You don’t have to do a thing. But that stresses you out, doesn’t it?’

Augus lifted his hips, Ash’s fingers sliding beneath and undoing the buttons, sliding around his hips and drawing the material down. His knuckles trailed down the backs of Augus’ thighs, over his calves, and then he drew the pants off completely and smoothed his hands down the sides of Augus’ feet.

If he was in his home, he wouldn’t feel as relaxed. The sun and the rock together made him lazier, lulled him, and he wondered if Ash knew, wondered if Ash had waited for a warm day and for Augus to sun himself as he so often did when the season turned.

Ash’s hands – both of them now – returned to his back, gently massaging the skin there, finding different muscle groups and coaxing them to let go of their tension. Augus had watched him massage Gwyn countless times, knew that Ash often did it as a prelude to fucking, and knew there was no way he could let Ash fuck him. But he didn’t get the impression Ash wanted that, exactly. He just wanted _more_.

Sometimes, Ash lay his forehead against Augus’ skin, or he pressed down close and into him, touching him in the way they sometimes lay together anyway. He breathed cool air and then dared to lick over the goose bumps that followed, and Augus swallowed and felt like he was being untangled, like Ash was tuning him to respond the way he wanted.

He allowed it, but he was intimidated by it.

‘When…did you first start thinking about this?’ Augus said.

‘A long time ago, but in a really not-serious way,’ Ash said, lips brushing against his shoulder with every word. Ash leaned back and smoothed his thumbs over Augus’ back, then reached up and placed his palm at the back of Augus’ head, right where it would trigger that profound sense of being comforted, soothed. Augus felt like he was sinking into the stone, his shoulders lowering, his breathing turning heavy.

‘I mean,’ Ash said, ‘I think about it with everyone. I can’t help it? So I thought about it with you. But it was idle, and I always shoved it away. I didn’t think it was threatening and I didn’t get like, focused on it. I knew you had your way of doing things, and I wasn’t missing out on your love, so it was like…there, but not there, at the same time. It wasn’t until Gwyn that I let myself really think about it.’

‘What do you imagine?’

‘A whole lot of things that your heartsong wouldn’t like at all,’ Ash said honestly, and he rubbed at the back of Augus’ head, and then trailed his hand down Augus’ spine and rested his fingers at the beginning of his ass, at the cleft that was all nerve endings and sensitive skin.

Augus touched himself, fingered himself regularly. But he’d never allowed anyone else to penetrate him. Gwyn had never dared, and the most Ash had ever done was sometimes press his fingers to that hidden stretch of skin behind his balls, pushing knowingly while blowing him or jerking him off. Augus felt some trembling thing to think of those fingers inside him.

‘What do you imagine?’ Augus asked again.

Ash laughed, like he couldn’t believe Augus was pushing him. Augus felt his own daring loosening, and he knew this was a dangerous game. And then Ash was shifting, gently pulling Augus’ leg to the side so he could move one knee between his legs, and then the other.

It was a lance of cold down his spine and he pushed up and looked over his shoulder. Ash watched him like a hawk.

‘Even your scent changes,’ Ash said, staring at him. ‘Did you know that? Are you scared of me?’

‘Anyone in their right mind would be,’ Augus said. ‘You forget, I raised you. I know better than anyone – except your victims – that you’re a predator.’

Ash’s smile was slow and confident. ‘I like that about you. You love me anyway.’

‘You make it hard not to.’

‘What about now?’ Ash said, sliding his palms along Augus’ sun-warmed thighs. ‘Is it hard to love me now?’

‘No,’ Augus breathed.

‘Would it help if I said I wasn’t going to fuck you?’

‘I don’t think so,’ Augus said, before facing forwards again and feeling the thrill of how their roles had already shifted. Ash liked to change the script they’d been following all their lives, more and more these days. Gwyn was often Ash’s ally when they both tried to get Augus to relax, or to be soothed with soft touches. Augus had always felt greedy for sensuality, and they’d made him see that in trying to be exemplary at healing others through domination, he’d forgotten to allow himself the pleasure of yielding.

‘I’m not going to fuck you.’

‘It doesn’t help.’

‘No,’ Ash said, his voice darker than before. Augus’ chest contracted, the fingers of one hand curling against the stone. ‘I don’t suppose it would. I have you lying face forward, and you’re naked and you love me. Gwyn would never take advantage of you. But you’d let me do whatever I wanted, wouldn’t you? If I begged to fuck you, you’d even let me do that. Maybe you’re lucky I don’t want that from you today.’

_You can’t keep talking to me like this. _Augus’ forehead bowed and touched the stone. Ash’s words were just as dangerous as his hands. He felt further away from his heartsong, in some dark space inside of himself, where there was only fear and the unknown, and the aching warmth and touch of his brother, so like solace despite how it destabilised him.

‘Tell me,’ Ash said, all easy command. ‘Tell me to put my tongue on you.’

A pause, and Augus groaned a few seconds later just thinking about it.

‘But…’ Ash said softly. ‘You have to tell me.’

Being commanded to order Ash to do something that he wanted to do anyway, Augus knew exactly what a mind-fuck it was, because he’d pulled tricks like that on his clients sometimes. Ash wanted him to be complicit in his yielding, and he made it look like he was giving Augus some power back, but Augus knew the game of it.

Ash had always known how to play him.

‘Eat me out,’ Augus said, and Ash made a faint, hungry sound, like he hadn’t expected the words. ‘Go on, Ash,’ Augus said, ‘have you thought about it a lot?’

Ash’s laughter was disbelieving, and then he was kneeling forwards and spreading Augus’ ass cheeks easily. That laughing voice muffled, and Augus gasped at the feel of a hot, wet tongue sliding flat over sensitive, tender skin. His eyes stayed open, he stared ahead and squirmed once and then tried to briefly seize control over all of it by damming away his arousal like all waterhorses could, and then he gave up, because to hide his body from the truth of Ash’s skill was a sin, not an act of love.

He let himself lay there, more open than he’d ever been with any of his clients, and his eyelids drifted shut as Ash’s tongue – as clever now as it was in speech – lapped over him in easy, predictable movements that were still more stirring than calming. The fingers spreading him open dug in possessively, and when Ash turned and bit into one of the curves, Augus lay his cheek flat against the stone and felt the racing of his heart reverberating through his chest.

Soon, the long, slow licks turned into gentle prodding with the tip of his tongue. Not just at Augus’ entrance, but below too, and Augus was getting hard, his breathing uneven. It didn’t occur to him to feel ashamed that anyone might see them, not when he knew how beautiful they both were, not when it was hard to remember the rest of the world existed.

The sun turned him lax where he would be tense, it made his legs ache with the need to spread them further. When Ash’s tongue slid into him for the first time, strong and wet, Augus moaned softly and his heart felt like it rolled to a stop. For a few moments, it was harder to breathe.

But then Ash kept doing it like it was normal, like this was something they engaged in, and Augus gave up trying to fight him. Idly, he stroked his right forearm and hand, liking the way it felt in contrast to the jangling lust.

‘Ah,’ Augus sighed. ‘You’re good at this.’

Ash didn’t lift up to respond, just thrust his tongue deeper before pulling back and sucking hard at his entrance, thrusting his tongue back into him. He used his lips, the edges of his teeth, his tongue, until Augus’ breathes were no longer shallow but deep, Augus trying to get as much cold air as he could, like that would somehow contain what he was feeling.

When Ash rubbed the tip of his index finger against his entrance, Augus pushed into it, a single unthinking motion of want. It wasn’t until it slid into him that he blinked back to shaky awareness, pushing up on his forearms once more.

Behind him, between his legs, Ash lifted up but kept his finger inside – stretching, moving minutely, testing.

‘Ash…’ A warning, a plea.

‘I’m not going to fuck you,’ Ash said.

‘You don’t think this is fucking?’

‘I’m not going to stick my dick in you. Not today, anyway.’

Augus sagged back to the stone and thought that it was so nice to rest against, except where his cock felt crushed.

_Not today, anyway._

Ash was pushing. The edges of Augus’ heartsong felt pulled too tight, like something might burst out and float away. Ash’s index finger slipped deeper into him, and Augus made a strangled sound and opened his mouth to ask Ash to wait.

Ash would have known. He knew how much he was playing not just with Augus’ body, but with his heartsong. Augus was meant to feel more vulnerable in this position, facedown. Ash between his legs, dangerous and hungry, exploring the edges of what he could take from Augus before it became too much. It was mollifying that Ash wasn’t pushing too hard. It was terrifying that Ash pushed at all.

‘But if you think this is fucking,’ Ash said, ‘then I guess…’

His finger withdrew and pushed back into him, and Augus pushed up as much as he could without dislodging Ash, the pleasure and strangeness it brought to have someone else’s fingers doing what he often did for himself frightening him.

‘Please wait,’ Augus breathed.

‘Sure,’ Ash said, and then he bent down and kissed the small of Augus’ back so gently that Augus’ eyes closed. ‘As long as you need.’

‘You know, don’t you? Please tell me you know.’

‘I know,’ Ash said. ‘I can’t sense them as well as you can, but I can still sense them. Is it that it’s me? Or is it this? Or is it all of it?’

‘Yes,’ Augus said, feeling the way his entrance fluttered open and then tried to squeeze shut around a single finger. Augus could open himself easily. But this incursion was harder to bear. ‘All of it.’

The saliva wasn’t enough either, Augus could feel it drying, could feel the subsequent friction. He tried not to think of himself as a client, being manipulated, but it was difficult to distract himself.

Ash’s other hand came and smoothed over his back, long motions that pacified him, and Augus hesitated, then sank back down to the stone again, painfully aware that he wasn’t asking him to stop.

‘I thought you’d stop me,’ Ash said, sounding far less like he wanted to lay waste to him, far more uncertain. ‘Are you sure this is okay?’

‘Keep touching me,’ Augus said, eyes closed, feeling like he could doze if it wasn’t for the thick arousal pooling. He thought it would be nice to fall asleep even like this. His lake lay beneath him, breezes kissed his skin and offered cool brushes of succour.

‘Okay,’ Ash said, but he withdrew his finger. ‘But…hang on.’

The crinkling of something, almost like a leaf, and Augus realised from the smell that it was plastic. He frowned, and then Ash’s fingers returned – slick and cool – and Augus swallowed. Human world lubricant. Ash had it in his pocket? In _plastic? _

A pause, and then Ash’s index finger slid right back into him, snugging in deeply, before Ash withdrew and pushed back in with two fingers. Augus stretched his arms out, back arching, and his heartsong wasn’t settled, but it didn’t stop him from enjoying the sting, the fullness, the fact that it was _Ash. _

‘You brought lubricant,’ Augus said into the stone.

‘I came prepared,’ Ash said. His fingers pulsed inside, thicker than Augus’ own, more aggressive. When he found Augus’ prostate, he pushed down and the burst of sharp pleasure hooked into his uncertain heartsong and his legs shifted. ‘I’ve been prepared for a while. Just waiting for the right opening.’

Augus nodded, but wasn’t really listening. All of it was easier to deal with when Ash wasn’t pushing his arousal further, forcing him to feel more. Augus could feel the edges of Ash’s demands. Could feel the way Ash knew he was going to make him come, could feel the confidence in Ash’s fingers curling into his flank, down into his prostate.

_‘Fuck,’ _Augus breathed, palm pushing along the stone as he tried to contain all of it, the pleasure, the ache, the way this breached his boundaries in a way nothing else ever had. Trying to contain the way he allowed it.

Ash’s breathing behind him was audible, and he shifted over Augus and pressed kisses to his back, open-mouthed, tongue glancing against his skin, his saliva cooler than the sun. But his fingers claimed him, pulling back to thrust in hard enough that Augus cried out. Those thrusts continued, and Augus lost himself in the heat of it.

Ash arched up higher, nuzzling into his neck, his shoulder, kissing the patches of skin between damp lengths of hair and waterweed. It did feel like worship, when Ash kissed him like that.

Augus turned his face to the side automatically, eyes closed, gratified when Ash understood. Lips over his cheek, tongue skating along the freckles there. Breaths against his eyelids and eyelashes and the tip of his nose. Augus had to strain his neck to kiss Ash, and he knew it wasn’t entirely comfortable for Ash either, but when their lips met, Augus felt something give way inside of him.

His heartsong trembled, but it was surrender he offered up, a yielding that felt peaceful. He trusted Ash more than anyone, trusted his love, and had always worried that he needed Ash far more than Ash needed him.

But this felt inevitable, like their whole lives had been spiralling to this point. Ash’s mouth moved easily, naturally against his. He claimed, but he let Augus push back. Their tongues slid slowly together, and they both groaned at the same time. Ash’s fingers dug down, almost vicious, inside of him, and Augus burned with it, sobbing once.

‘Sorry,’ Ash said, rough and hungry. ‘You don’t know what I want to do to you.’

‘I think I do.’

‘But not today,’ Ash said. ‘I want to be so good to you.’

Their lips rubbed together, almost tickling. Ash pressed his forehead against Augus’, and then licked over his ear and bit gently at the lobe, and then licked behind where the skin was so sensitive and tender that Augus shuddered and went limp. For a few minutes, he told himself it would be fine if Ash fucked him, but his heartsong quaked in some deep and secret place at the very idea of it.

It couldn’t happen today. They would both have to be good, even if Augus felt that destructive yearning and wished to be devoured.

He had to shift, his knees getting underneath him and hating the humiliation of it. But even as he started to get a hand between his legs, Ash stroked his wrist a few times, dragged his thumb down Augus’ palm, and then took Augus’ cock in his grip instead. He started working it slowly, a blissful, sensual movement that unwound Augus so quickly that he stopped worrying about his heartsong and vanished into the sensations surrounding him.

‘God, exactly like that,’ Ash purred. ‘Don’t think I haven’t noticed, how much you like it to be like this. You always just wanted people to pet you and take care of you, didn’t you?’

‘Mm,’ Augus nodded, dazed. He was far closer to coming than he would ever be with a client, or with anyone else, even Gwyn, who he loved so much that it made him feel flower-bright and filled with hope.

Ash played him with an easy confidence now, and though it was filled with love, it was also a showcasing of how well Ash could work someone’s body and suddenly and vindictively, Augus was spitefully angry at all of the human livestock that Ash had ever shown this side of himself to. But he couldn’t keep Ash all to himself. It was impossible. Ash spilled over with so much love that he had to share it, and he thrived when he lived that way.

Augus’ back arched, he was so close to coming. Ash’s fingers would thrust in hard and then pull back, dragging thick over his prostate before pulsing back in. The hand on his cock was never rough or harsh, squeezing slowly at the head, or massaging the length, but never demanding. But Augus’ secret had always been that he fell to slow and firm the way he never did to rough and fast.

When he came, it was a long build and a sharp release, each pulse dragging gasps from his throat, small whimpers, and Ash was so careful with him, so attentive, slowing further as soon as Augus tipped to oversensitivity. Ash pushed for another few seconds and then stopped before Augus could even ask him to.

Instead of slumping down as he wanted, Ash caught him and lifted his overwhelmed body, pulling him into a thicker section of shade under the weeping willow. Augus lay draped, one arm over Ash’s shoulder, chests pressing together, legs sprawled across and over his lap.

‘Can I come?’ Ash said. ‘I don’t have to.’

‘Please,’ Augus said, ‘I regret I don’t think I’ll be much use.’

‘No, no, no,’ Ash said. ‘Just stay close. I can do everything myself. It just feels so good to have you like this. You smell amazing.’

Augus nodded tiredly, felt the way Ash grabbed his own cock and worked himself with far more concerted drive, unrelenting and quick and gasping caught breaths into Augus’ sensitive ear.

He came when Augus lazily turned his head and scraped his teeth over Ash’s neck, because Augus wasn’t above testing Ash either. The smell of his come was earthier, siltier, and Augus reached down to Ash’s belly and dragged his fingers through the pale, gleaming release that had landed there, bringing it to his lips automatically. As he tasted it, Ash swore, and Augus thought that it did taste different to his own come. A sign, no doubt, of how Ash lived his life, the foods and beverages he was willing to drink.

‘You fucking kill me,’ Ash managed, and Augus was dragged into a kiss, tiredly participating, eyes still closed.

When they drew apart, Augus laughed gently. ‘The sun made me tired, and it’s only morning. I can still feel your fingers in me.’

‘Is it a good feeling?’

‘I don’t think I like the lubricant very much. But it’s a lovely feeling. An ‘I only want to feel this _sometimes’ _feeling. You were rougher than I expected.’

‘Yeah,’ Ash said, dragging them both back to lie down under the shade. Augus’ chest pressed to Ash’s, and Ash’s back rested against the stone that was far cooler in the shade.

‘I’d use your special fancy fae lubricant but it doesn’t come in tiny packets that I can fit in my jeans when I’m like, on a mission.’

‘There’s the small phials,’ Augus said. ‘Haven’t you seen them?’

‘No, but thanks for making it easier for me to do this again in the future. So your heartsong’s okay?’

Augus nodded sleepily, burying one of his hands into Ash’s hair, and then quivering when Ash returned the gesture. He could still feel the impression of those fingers inside of him, the ghost of Ash’s clever hand on his cock.

‘It was shaken,’ Augus said. ‘But it worked out. I think it may work better in the future, which is intriguing. And a little terrifying.’

‘You know Gwyn’s going to want to try it too.’

‘Only if we tell him.’

‘I’m going to tell him,’ Ash said, kissing the side of Augus’ face. ‘He’s asked before if you’d be open to him…ah, exploring I guess is a good word for it!’

‘I think it would be easier with him,’ Augus said. ‘Deep down, he is made for yielding.’

‘God, he so is,’ Ash groaned. ‘But it’s nice when it’s you. When I know you’re not made for it, but you still do it for me, because you love me. It’s scarier because of what I am, isn’t it?’

‘Because I can tell how much more you would do, if you didn’t have a conscience, if you were purely selfish. I can feel you holding back.’

Ash was silent for a while, and then wrapped both of his hands around Augus’ shoulders, stroking gently. He seemed to be thinking about it, and Augus liked pressing closer, because Ash wasn’t as slender as he was, and it was nice to lay against, the softness, the slight curves, the way Ash seemed made for him to press into and rest upon.

‘I don’t ever want to hurt you,’ Ash said finally.

‘A part of you does.’

‘That part of me wants to hurt the whole world,’ Ash admitted. ‘You have that too. That part of you that wishes I’d never come into your life. That knows it’s wrong for two waterhorses like us to live together.’

It was discomfiting but it was true. Deep within, they both had wild, malicious creatures with no love for anything or anyone, with a single desire to feed and feel sated, and repeat that cycle forever. But those wild, malicious creatures craved comfort and warmth, and Augus wondered about it sometimes; if their waterhorses found something – even if they found it repulsive – in each other, and didn’t understand it, but wanted it to stay.

Augus was glad for Ash’s steady presence pressing closer, and his breathing slowed. He was no longer trembling, his body had managed the wave of intent and sensation and emerged whole on the other side. It was easy to feel grateful for his life, the people in it.

Ash petted him, smoothed hands over his skin, fussed with his hair, and Augus was lulled. As he rested, he couldn’t help but smile.

‘Thank you,’ Ash said.

‘The pleasure was entirely mine.’

‘Nah, not _entirely_.’ Ash kissed his forehead and then sighed, pleased. ‘You should rest, brother. And then a day of lazing about, I think. I’ll make us lunch, or maybe we can forage it from the lake.’

Augus nodded sleepily and traced patterns into Ash’s skin, sated and happy. Life was generous and he revelled in it, a smile on his face. Pleasure was so easy to find these days, and Augus was thankful.


End file.
